Before I have a chance to order my thoughts and respond, Trinh bounces up from her seat and heads to my office door.
“Alright, I will be back here first thing in the morning so we can go over my notes,” Trinh announces, turning back to me as the door slides open.
“Uh…”
“Wait! Are you leaving for the front lines too? Or will you be staying behind on the ship?”
“As the Director of the Bride Program, I will be staying on the ship to assist with any mated brides and bride volunteers left on board.”
“That’s good. I won’t have to learn to deal with someone new.”
“Wait. You’re staying? You’re not going to return to Earth?” I ask incredulously.
“Of course not! You guys saved my life. If it hadn’t been for your technology, cancer might have killed me by now. I’m not going to repay that by bailing at the first sign of trouble. Besides, you guys need me!” Trinh whirls out the door in a flash of blue silk and long golden legs.
I find myself smiling as I pick up my tablet and check my schedule for tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Trinh
Atinny robotic voice pipes up from my left as I select my breakfast from the food replicator. “Move bitch. Get out the way, bitch. Get out the way.”
“I swear to all that is holy,” I groan.
A quickly smothered snort of laughter from behind me has me looking over to see Chelsea standing in the entrance with her hand pressed over her mouth.
I point an accusing finger at her. “This is all your fault. You thought it was funny to get the damn robot to say that every time it bumps into someone. But it’s been a month now, and the next time that little domed asshole calls me a bitch, I’m going to tear it apart. I’ve had enough. Make it stop talking, or we’re going to have to learn to live without the cleaning bot in here.”
“I don’t know how to make it stop,” Chelsea says with hands raised in defeat. “I just talked Ally into programming it to sing that song. We have to wait for her to get back.”
“So, while Ally has been busy getting dicked across the universe, I just have to put up with this nonsense?”
“What? Getting dicked across the universe? By whom?” Chelsea asks, confusion wrinkling her brow.
“By L’Zaen, obviously.”
“Um, I’m pretty sure they’re just friends.”
“Puh-lease. She's been gagging for it since she first laid eyes on him. I guarantee they’ve hooked up on their pilgrimage. Unless some other smart Cerastean snatched her up from under L’Zaen’s oblivious nose.”
“I hope you’re right,” Chelsea says, wrinkling her nose adorably.
“So,” I say hesitantly, remembering what L’Corte told me last night. “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around.”
It’s hard to imagine bubbly, party-animal Chelsea being tortured by evil aliens in some horrible space laboratory. If it had happened to me, I don’t imagine I’d be so carefree now. Although now that I think about it, it might actually explain some of her happy-go-lucky attitude. When the Cerasteans cured me of cancer, didn’t I vow to live life to the fullest? I promised myself to revel in each moment, live every day like it is a gift.
When I was in hospice care, months ago, I had a bright moment of regret realizing that I had taken my life for granted. Before I got sick, I was always looking to the future, planning my next step, never paying attention to the present. It felt like it was all over before I’d genuinely got a chance to live. When the Department of Human and Cerastean Relations guy showed up and offered me the deal to cure me in exchange for joining the Bride Program, I made a vow to myself to always be present and treat each day as a gift. I can imagine that Chelsea might feel the same. It would certainly explain her carefree, take-no-prisoners attitude.
“Ah, heard about that, did you?” Chelsea says with a knowing look in her eyes. “I’m good, but I appreciate the offer. The same goes for you. You know that, right? You ever need anyone to talk to; I’m here.”
“I’m good too. But if that ever changes, I’ll search you out. If you’re around, that is,” I say. Looking around to make sure we are alone, I whisper to Chelsea, “Or will you be heading to the frontline with your mates?”
“I will be heading out with L’Tarne and D’Rett. I don’t have enough training to be anything more than an emergency back-up pilot, but I will be there, just in case,” Chelsea whispers back.
“Damn. I’m going to miss having you around. Do you know how long you’ll be gone for?”
“I have no idea. I guess it depends on what we find when we get to Osti,” Chelsea says with a shrug. “I’ll miss you too. Gonna miss watching you fight with L’Corte.”
